


The Fearful and the Feral

by tatterwitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood and Gore, Canonical Character Death, Castiel in Heat, Feral Dean, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Minor Character Death, Omega Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 09:24:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6417937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/tatterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d hoped that they wouldn’t pursue him into the forest. Hardly anyone dared breach even the sparse copses at the edges. Steel, silver, and iron traps littered the fringes of the forest. The abandoned masses of stone and wood cottages loomed large in lonely spots, dark smears and spots painted over surfaces. Pairs of orangey-green lights flickered in the periphery of Castiel’s vision,  disappearing when he turned fearfully. The forest was full of wolves, the kind that had to have been cursed, or perhaps shaped by the devil’s own hand. No hunter, soldier, or civilian set foot within the forest without protective talismans, and even then, only a spare few returned. It seemed that the baron was hell-bent on keeping Castiel for his nefarious needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fearful and the Feral

_Run, run, run, run, run._  
  
It was a mantra in Castiel’s head, one that kept his heart hammering a rapid beat even as his feet carried him as fast as he was able. The snow had fallen long and hard the past fortnight, settling in deep drifts and banks between the forest’s trees. Pristine white glittered in the dimming light of the setting sun. His breath plumed up, clouding the cold air in a burst of panic when the hem of his cloak caught on another tree-limb. He pulled free, the noise of fabric tearing and his own dry sob of fear sounding loud over the crunching falls of his feet.  
  
His thin boots were soaked through, cold making his toes and fingers stiff and numb. They’d stopped hurting a while back. But there was another ache growing, one that made Castiel’s panic and dread worsen, still. Beneath his skirts, the first few trickles of slick wetted the creases of his cheeks. Cold air made the wetness sting against his skin, the thin, cotton material of his skirts offering little protection from the winter’s wind. His heat had arrived, the very one the baron Crowley had been awaiting eagerly. 

  
The dark-eyed Beta’s words slithered over Castiel’s skin, pricking like the slender legs of a dozen spiders.  The memories of threats and unsolicited touches had his stomach jumping, roiling and ready to expel what bile he had left. He’d seen what Crowley had done to Omegas who didn’t obey and submit readily. He’d been forced to watch as the demon’s troupe of Alpha criminals had had their way with a few of the village’s unmated Omegas. Images arose in his mind’s eye; ragged bites, shallow slices from rusty knives, bruises from big hands, red imprints of palms, bloodied channels…  
  
Castiel pushed himself faster, stumbling over his own feet as he crested a hill. The baying of hounds came from far-off, making his blood run cold. Stars were beginning to peek out above, spots of crystal in a blackening expanse. The wind grew sharper, biting through his cloak  and skirts like a hot knife through warmed butter. His body trembled fiercely, slick leaking down his thighs as tears threatened to spill. Trees grew closer together, blotting out the cloudless sky slowly, but inevitably.   
  
He’d hoped that they wouldn’t pursue him into the forest. Hardly anyone dared breach even the sparse copses at the edges. Steel, silver, and iron traps littered the fringes of the forest. The abandoned masses of stone and wood cottages loomed large in lonely spots, dark smears and spots painted over surfaces. Pairs of orangey-green lights flickered in the periphery of Castiel’s vision,  disappearing when he turned fearfully. The forest was full of wolves, the kind that had to have been cursed, or perhaps shaped by the devil’s own hand. No hunter, soldier, or civilian set foot within the forest without protective talismans, and even then, only a spare few returned. It seemed that the baron was hell-bent on keeping Castiel for his nefarious needs.  
  
A sort of feverish fire wracked Castiel’s body, his heat seizing control of his limbs as need hazed his mind. He stumbled, knees catching in a deep drift at the crest of a hill. He tumbled end over end, hands flying out in a bid to slow or stop his senseless fall before he crashed into a rock or tree. Dimly, he wondered if it would be better to roll on unhindered, only to bash his head in and be free of the threat of being bred by Crowley or his cohorts.   
  
Frozen powder flew up in a flurry as Castiel fetched up against something rough and hard. Pain burned hot along his spine and hips, wrenching a choked cry from between his lips. Slick soaked his legs and skirts, making the fabric cling uncomfortably to his legs. His fingers sunk into the snow, tips pale and blue-tinged as he tried to lift himself back to his feet to continue fleeing. Another spear of pain lanced along his back, sending him crashing back onto the snow-packed earth. Again he tried, feet and elbows digging troughs into the powder. Again, pain sent him sprawling limply.   
  
Tears overflowed, wetting Castiel’s cheeks before freezing on his skin. He prayed that God would take him before anyone reached him. He’d rather freeze to death in the forest before being bred by Crowley or his men. He shivered, body quaking as it attempted to combat the cold. Slowly, the dreadful iciness leeched away. The snow was soft as feather-down beneath Castiel’s cheek. A hazy sort of drowsiness stole over him.   
  
Something crunched in the snow nearby, nearly silent. Snow began to fall, flakes falling against Castiel’s bare cheek and hands. A great, shadowy mass shifted in the edge of Castiel’s vision. A pair of orangey-green orbs flickered high before sinking down with a quiet crunch. Castiel’s breath hitched as the shape moved closer, revealing itself to the fading rays of the sun that filtered through the naked limbs of the trees. Fur ruffled in the winter wind, a rich honey-brown color flecked with cinnamon and barred with bands of black. Green eyes glinted, catching the light like any animals, reflecting that eerie combination of gold and emerald. It moved unlike any wolf Castiel had seen before, its body appearing more like a man’s with canine characteristics.   
  
Castiel should have felt fear. But as the creature crept closer, nostrils flaring and breath steaming, he felt nothing. No fear, no threat, no burning need to get away or run. Not that he could have escaped, even if he’d wished to. Castiel could only blink sleepily and breathe as the beast dipped its great head, muzzle pushing at the hood of his cloak. A wet nose pressed against the crook of his neck and snuffled along his ear, hot breath ruffling his dampened hair. A surprised sort of yip issued before the nose pressed more firmly against Castiel’s neck. After another few sniffs, the creature moved back, panting as its hands kneaded the snow. It’s head tossed back, mouth opening around a loud, long howl.   
  
The beast dipped back down, nudging at Castiel’s body with its nose roughly, pushing under Castiel’s hip and belly and shoulders as if trying to prod him into standing. The action made Castiel whimper at the sharp lance of pain that flashed down his spine.   
  
The wolf danced back, flattening its body to the snow and creeping forward. A pitiful whine slipped between its long fangs and Castiel swore the sound was one of apology and worry. Its body gently butted up against Castiel’s, the creature using its nose to push Castiel’s numb, lifeless hands against its furred chest.   
  
Castiel shut his eyes when hot breath blew over his face and throat. This was it. The beast would kill him, rip his throat out and eat him- A warm, wet, rough tongue swiped along Castiel’s jaw and ear. A heavy, strong arm lifted and drapped over Castiel’s shoulders. The tongue licked over his face, carefully washing the frozen tears and sweat from his cheeks. Very, very slowly, feeling began creeping back into Castiel’s body. White-hot pins needled his limbs, drawing half-muffled hisses of pain from between his teeth. His body shook violently, shivers returning full-force as the wolf huddled closer. Those green eyes were wide with concern.   
  
Suddenly, the wolf’s ears pricked and something dangerous flickered in his eyes. It pulled away, turning its back on Castiel as the bays of hounds sounded loud. A low, threatening growl rumbled out of the beast’s chest, issuing thinly from between bared teeth. Castiel’s fingers buried deep in warm, coarse fur. Despite the dangerous absurdity of the situation, Castiel felt a little bit safer with the wolf at his side.   
  
Shouts rang out, calls of his name intermingled with slurs and laughing calls of “ _stupid Omega bitch”._ Castiel could smell his heat, the scent sweet and heady even as it was carried away on the wind. The amber-red light of torches flickering over bared branches and washing over white snow. Fear made Castiel’s heart flutter, had him curling closer to the wolf even as it unfolded and stood on two legs.   
  
They breached the hill’s crest, the scent of Alpha sickly cloying, making Castiel gag. The hounds bayed, loping down the hill; ears flopping and spittle flying as they barked. The wolf crouched, snarling dangerously. Muscles rippled beneath the honey-brown fur, ears flicking in irritation. The hounds whined, fleeing back up the hill amid curses from the Alphas. Wood creaked and metal clicked as cross-bows were drawn, aimed. Shadows ghosted in-between the trees, large and hulking. The same citrine glows blinking in and out behind limbs and branches and twigs.   
  
The wolf crouched lower, arms opening in a manner that looked an awful lot like it was shielding Castiel from harm. Castiel’s fingers tightened on the fur in his fists. A ceaseless, threatening rumble emanated from the creature.   
  
“Get away from the wolf, you dumb Omega bitch.” One Alpha called out.  
  
“Here, Cassy, Cassy, Cassy.”  
  
“Don’t make us come and get you.”  
  
“You come here and we won’t knot you too hard.”  
  
“Can smell your heat, bet a sweet thing like you could take three knots at once.”  
  
“Bet you’d like it, too, huh, Omega?”  
  
A ferocious snarl ripped out of the wolf’s throat as it snapped its teeth. Castiel shook, trapped where he lay. This was it. They’d shoot the wolf and then they’d have their way with him. Probably right there in the frigid snow, leaving him for dead after using him. They’d likely return empty-handed to Crowley and tell him that wolves ate Castiel. A quiet whimper escaped between Castiel’s lips.   
Something in the wood snapped. An arrow flew, embedding itself in the snow by Castiel’s knee. Chaos erupted.   
  
Snow flew up, white powder kicking high and wide as shadows leapt from the trees. Large, hulking forms with claws like knives and teeth like daggers. Torches were thrown down as cross-bows loosed arrows. Swords were drawn, reflecting the light of the dying flames. The smell of blood leeched into the air, coppery and bitter. Shouts and gargled death cries echoed.   
  
One Alpha stumbled down the hill, brandishing a blood-soaked blade as his boots dragged through deep snow. His dark hair was matted down on one side, red streaking his grin, staining his teeth scarlet. Utter confidence drove his swagger. When he spoke it was with a slight lisp, his words slow and goading.   
  
“Look at the two bitches.”   
  
The wolf snarled, teeth snapping. His body shifted minutely to shield Castiel. The Alpha man’s eyes dipped down and his grin widened lasciviously. His brows lifted, causing a cut over his eye to split farther. Blood ran down, painting his lid. He didn’t bother to swipe it away.  
  
“Well, well. Not a pair of bitches at all. Castiel, Castiel. Found an Alpha doggy to play with, hmm? How perfectly… _deviant_ of you.”  
  
Castiel’s teeth chattered together as he attempted to drag himself back, away from the man with the bloody grin. A pained gasp wound out of his chest, only making the man smile wider.  
  
“Oh-ho! Is that how it is? Did the Alpha-doggy find you first? I bet you spread your legs like a whore for him. Bet you cried and moaned when he knotted you. Split you open nice and well, didn’t he, Cast-”  
  
The man didn’t get to finish Castiel’s name. The wolf leapt, leaving Castiel’s hands empty. Those large, jagged-toothed jaws opened wide before snapping shut around the pale column of a throat. Blood sprayed over snow. Limbs and torso jerked wildly as the wolf shook its head mightily, teeth sinking deep and tearing through flesh. Something round rolled away from the body, coming to stop at the foot of a tree across the clearing. A head. It was a head.  
  
Castiel shuddered, eyes sliding shut as his stomach turned. Snow crunched beside him quietly. Silence reigned for a moment, signalling a battle won. Strong arms snaked beneath Castiel’s prone body, lifting him from the earth. He was too tired to even cry out when agony made him jerk and spasm. A soft, worried whine sounded above him. Warm fur pressed against his cheek, the steady, dull throb of a heartbeat pulsed beneath his ear. Arms cradled his body with infinite tenderness as snow crunched, marking movement. Castiel tucked his face against the chest of the wolf, reveling in the warmth that poured off the creature. Even its scent was warm; heady like mead and spicy like the market in the village. It was a comforting scent that made Castiel loose and relax. Despite all that had happened and the threat of what could come, he let himself succumb to the darkness that weighed on his eyelids.


End file.
